


The Way of Things

by Midnight_Ophelia



Series: The Way of Things [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Episode Related, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, It's real vague, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13953030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Ophelia/pseuds/Midnight_Ophelia
Summary: “All I wanted was my books and I cannot even have those,” Caleb finishes and shrinks back into his matted and battered coat. “I hate this city.”It very clearly hasn't been Caleb’s day.Maybe Molly can help.





	The Way of Things

The best part of Zadash is the bathhouse.

After a night of sleep that is blessedly warm, dry, and without a threat of death, they go as a group once they take care of their business at the blacksmith’s.

Frankly, Molly’s surprised that Caleb doesn’t immediately disappear to avoid the bath and “friendly” nudity. Not disappointed, but certainly surprised. And delighted. About as much as he’d been when he’d first laid eyes on a shockingly clean wizard exiting The Invulnerable Vagrant. He hadn't gotten the chance to ask what brought on the change, but had let his gaze roam appreciatively over a face covered in freckles that had previously been hidden from view.

The opportunity allows for Molly to do it again, subtly, between a reunion with Yasha and conversation about their list of potential jobs to take.

Judging by the way Caleb’s eyes had widened and the red that had bloomed on his cheeks that had little to do with the hot water when he first came strutting out shamelessly naked in all of his tattooed and pierced glory, Molly isn't the only one enjoying copping a view in this place.

Caleb is thin and pale when not covered in layers and layers of clothing. There's more freckles dusting his shoulders like tiny constellations, a small amount of ginger red hair on his chest, and his own fair share of scars. From where Molly sits, sprawled on the small stone bench beneath the water, he can see the most recent additions from the crossbow bolts that had pierced him. They're still pink and inflamed despite Jester’s magic, and Molly wants to gently kiss each of them and trace his freckles with his fingers.

There’s flirting happening all around him, he’s amused to witness as their communal bath continues. It's the sort of thing to happen when you put a handful of attractive people all together and take away their clothing. There's an honesty to be found in nudity that can't be found any other way.

Molly watches Caleb the entire time just to see how he reacts in such an environment. There’s embarrassment of course, and at one point he even ducks into the water before the heat forces him back to the surface, sputtering, but he slowly relaxes, even smiling at Nott’s antics like an affectionate and proud older brother.

Eventually, their fun ends and they all one by one leave the warmth to redress in their freshly laundered clothing. Well, everyone except for Caleb (Beau and Yasha linger bit longer for entirely different reasons). Molly can't help but wonder why he prefers to hide beneath a facade of dirt and grime. Perhaps it has something to do with that backstory he keeps avoiding discussing every time someone asks.

Not that Molly minds either way when it comes to Caleb, his story is his own, and it isn't like he himself hasn't hidden what little of his own history that he can recall underneath ridiculous falsehoods. Besides that, he likes the man clean or dirty. Whichever makes Caleb comfortable is fine by him.

* * *

The worst part of Zadash is the blatant classism.

Molly can see it everywhere, looking at everyone who was not a member of the rich and powerful, stuck under the thumb of the empire’s oppression. He can hardly blame the common folk who whisper anti-crown sentiments in the cellars of the taverns at night.

He can see the same feeling reflected on Caleb’s mud-splattered face when he meets back up with them at The Leaky Tap later that evening, looking utterly miserable.

They all look up at him. Nott is the first to speak up. “I prefer Caleb like this,” she says with a grin and affection in her voice beneath her mask.

“I do too,” Molly agrees quickly. He smiles broadly in Caleb’s direction.

Once everyone begins to disappear up to their rooms to prepare for the monster hunt the next day, Molly goes to find Caleb in his with Nott.

“I know that we all have a busy day tomorrow, but could I steal you for a moment?” he asks as soon as Caleb appears on the other side of the door. “If Nott wouldn’t mind.”

Caleb opens his mouth to probably turn him down, but Nott is quicker, slipping past him, as she says cheerfully, “That's okay, I’ll just go bother Fjord for a bit.”

When she’s scampered down to Fjord and Molly's room, Caleb steps back to let Molly come inside. His blue eyes don't meet his gaze and his grubby fingers absently tug at a fraying sleeve of his coat.

“Come in…”

“Wanna tell me what's going on between you and Jester? You could cut the tension with a knife.” Molly walks in with a flourish and settles himself in a rickety wooden chair by the fireplace. “What's eating you, Caleb?”

Caleb shakes his head and remains standing where he is. “It's nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Caleb flinches back in surprise. “What?”

Molly sighs. Stubborn man. Maybe he’d have better luck asking Jester. “I said that’s bullshit. I've been around people long enough to tell when something is bothering them. If we're all going to be working together, then we all need to get along. Now, tell me what happened. You’ll feel better I promise.”

Caleb must have wanted to vent much more than he initially let on. It takes that one plea for all of his problems to come spilling past his lips.

Jester’s money, the asshole guards at the Trispires, and Frumpkin’s ‘death’ from being kicked.

“All I wanted was my books and I cannot even have those,” Caleb finishes and shrinks back into his matted and battered coat. “I hate this city.”

It very clearly hasn't been Caleb’s day.

Molly rises and joins him to stand in the middle of the room. On a whim he reaches out to Caleb’s face to push a wayward red strand out of his face.

“I'm sorry that you've had such a terrible time of it. And for the record, I don't believe that Jester was trying to be ungrateful. From the sound of it she grew up sheltered and rich. It will take her some time to understand that not everyone has such access to gold as she did.”

 “You're probably right,” Caleb mutters, lowering his head. “This day has been terrible.”

“You just need to blow off some steam.” It's time for a bit of levity and Caleb needs a pick me up. “I happen to know a fair few ways to do just that.”

He purposely gives Caleb a lascivious grin and fiddles suggestively with one of the various charms hanging from his horns the moment he looks in his direction, prompting the ruddy blush to come rushing back to his cheeks.

Molly laughs and pats Caleb’s stubbled cheek. “You blush an awful lot for someone on the search for smutty novels. Looking for pointers, love? Or is the chaste virgin act nothing but exactly that?”

The second the words leave him, Caleb grabs Molly by the lapels of his colorful coat and yanks him to his chest.

Caleb is a few inches shorter than he is and he has to lift his chin and pull him down in order to press a hungry kiss to Molly’s mouth. It’s a bit unpracticed, but there’s nothing blushing bride about the way his teeth tug at his bottom lip or the tongue that pushes against his own.

They're both breathing hard when Caleb breaks the kiss off and his expression is smug around the edges. “Does that answer your question, Mollymauk Tealeaf?”

Molly shakes his head. “I think I need you to do that again to really know for sure.”

Caleb rolls his eyes, but obliges.

* * *

By some miracle they manage to get to the bed before their clothing is shed, piles of fabric mixing in an array of color, and Molly does indeed trace over the freckles and scars that cover Caleb’s body, both with tongue and fingertips.


End file.
